The Curse of the Blue Pieces
by Battus philenor
Summary: GS - Response to the weekly challenge on Unbound


Title: The Curse of the Blue Pieces

Author: Battus philenor

Disclaimer: If I did own CSI, I fear it would lose its popularity. It would be all geek love.

A/N: This story was born out of an internet chat and checkers session with ShipperGirl. The conversation below was pretty much the same as one that we had. Then the thought arose as to whether or not I could write a story with this title to fit with this week's Unbound challenge (first and last lines are given). For some reason ShipperGirl doubted me, but after seeing that I did it (I said I did it, I didn't say that it was good) she beta'd it for me. Any errors that remain are all mine. So thanks ShipperGirl!

Sitting tied up in a car sinking to the bottom of Lake Mead wasn't _quite_ how Sara had planned to spend her day off. Yet there she was with a mask on her face and small oxygen tank in her lap. All because of a stupid online game and _the bet_.

Had she been thinking clearly, she wouldn't have agreed to anything that had happened the day before, when an innocent offer of help had gone so terribly wrong for her, thanks to the curse of the blue pieces.

Walking into the break room yesterday she'd witnessed the normally completely competent Grissom, cursing under his breath as his laptop was making those ferocious beeps and gongs signifying those all too frequent errors.

Chuckling at his adorable antics inadvertently drew his attention away from the offending machine long enough for him to cast an icy glare in her direction. Trying to hide the grin that had taken over her face, she turned quickly, peering into the refrigerator as if in search of some elusive item.

Catching the humor in her eyes that was clearly a result of his frustration; he could think of only one way to make her pay.

"Nice try, Sara. For that, you can come over here and fix this." As an after thought and in trying to stay on the path of mending their relationship he added a very soft, "please?"

No matter the circumstance, Sara could not refuse that man anything. Looking down at his screen she realized he'd managed to have about twenty windows locked up.

"Grissom you have six chat windows open and yet you have no buddies listed."

She felt sorry for him, he wasn't even comfortable talking with people online. A sadness crept into her heart as she realized exactly how alone he truly was.

"I was just trying to set this up." Wanting to leave it at that, but keeping in his new spirit of sharing he offered another tiny tidbit. "My Mother chats, and I thought it might be nice to speak with her online, maybe even play some checkers."

The car hitting the bottom of the lake jarred her from her memories of what got her into this mess to begin with. She started the timer as the water began to slowly fill the compartment. Starting to panic slightly even with the canister of air in her lap, she fought to concentrate on the timer instead.

Grasping it again from where it was hanging around her neck; she began to shift it back and forth in her still tied hands, as she watched the seconds tick away. She could stop the timer when the car was completely filled and then try to make her escape with the air tank.

With her hands occupied with the timer, she drifted back to the game which had sealed her fate for today.

It had started as a quick lesson in playing a game with a chat buddy, after she'd set everything up for him properly. Following a few evenly matched games she realized an oddity.

"Grissom, whoever has the blue pieces always loses."

"Sara, checkers isn't a game of skill, so if you have two reasonably intelligent individuals playing, the odds would be the same as a coin toss."

"Yeah, but it's always the one with the blue pieces who loses."

"That's just ridiculous."

"No, it's not. Look, It's your turn to be blue. I'll bet you'll lose this next game."

"You're on, Sara. What's the wager?"

"Well, considering you've pulled me away from my lunch break for this lesson, I think it's only fair that you buy me lunch when I win."

"I have an experiment I need to conduct tomorrow. So when I win, you can help me with that."

"But I'm off tomorrow, Gris."

"I thought you were confident with your theory regarding the curse of the blue pieces?"

So there she sat with water rising to just below her neck, trying not to hyper-ventilate. Realizing too late that no matter what the outcome of that game; those blue pieces would curse her. She should have known better than to get mixed up in one of Grissom's crazy experiments.

As the water passed her chin Sara decided it was time to turn on the air flow. Struggling with the device her panic started to increase when she couldn't get the damn thing to work.

Pacing along the beach Grissom found himself suddenly anxious and wishing he hadn't made Sara go through with the bet. An overwhelming sense of unease was making it hard for him to breathe.

Never a superstitious man, his scientific brain began ticking off the reasons his fear was unjustified. But, this was Sara down there, and his heart was apparently winning out over his brain.

Grabbing the radio from his belt he sent out an urgent plea to the divers circling above the car which held Sara. His breathing calmed slightly as he saw them disappear under the surface.

Seeing Sara struggling, completely immersed in the lake water, the diver broke the window, grabbed her quickly by her arm and yanked her through the opening. Pulling his respirator from his mouth he forced it into Sara's.

Her motions calmed somewhat as she greedily breathed in the much needed oxygen. Sharing the air, he started the relatively short ascent to the surface. Breaking through to the hot desert heat his booming voice gave her a command which she had no desire to argue with.

"Do not try to swim. Just breathe and relax in my arms. I'll bring you in."

After what seemed like forever Grissom saw the divers one at a time popping up above the surface, the last one with Sara in his arms. As they made their way back towards the shore, fear gripped him again when he noticed that she wasn't swimming. She was just lying, limp, feet trailing out behind her, immobile.

Running into the water to meet them, he fought the resistance of the water and the awkwardness of his heavy boots in the mucky sand. Eyes wide by the time he reached them, scared to look at her for the fear of what he'd see.

With one more deep breath he forced his eyes up to her face. His pulse slowing at the sight of her brown eyes staring back at him; he nearly collapsed with relief when she next spoke to him.

"I could kill you for making me do that!"

Then he saw it, her smile--her beautiful, beautiful smile. 

End

Battus philenor


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